


The Prince and the Librarian

by JustAHobbit



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991), Beauty and the Beast (2017), Beauty and the Beast - All Media Types
Genre: Adam's kind of a recluse, Alternate Universe - No Curse, Belle's gonna fix that, F/M, Slow Burn, wasting in his lonely tower
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2018-10-22 08:53:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10693641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAHobbit/pseuds/JustAHobbit
Summary: Prince Adam is reclusive, bad-tempered, and spoiled. The only thing he seems to care about is his library and his old librarian up and left. Luckily a replacement has been found in the nearby village of Villeneuve.





	1. The Librarian

**Author's Note:**

> This was going to be a short and simple one chapter deal. It blew up.

The library had grown into a state of disarray ever since the old librarian very suddenly and unexpectedly (to the Prince, at least) quit. It was becoming increasingly difficult for Prince Adam to find anything. He didn’t understand the convoluted system the old librarian had used and he could never find the same book twice. For someone who devoured books as often as he did, this was a great source of irritation for Prince Adam.

“I can’t stand it any longer!” Prince Adam roared as he paced back and forth irritably in front of the fire. “My library-the most extensive private library in all of France-is nothing more than a joke! It’s no longer a source of pride for me. It’s a blemish on my castle and on myself!”

Cogsworth nodded and bowed his head. “Of course, your highness. I can understand the frustration-”

“Do you?” Adam whirled and glared down at his head of household. “Do you _really_ understand? You’re supposed to be the head of my household. I want this problem fixed. Find me a new librarian.”

“Of course, sir,” said Cogsworth. “Any requirements for the job?”

“No idiots,” Prince Adam snapped almost immediately. “I deal with enough of those already. The entire library needs to be organized in a way that will make it easier to find what is needed. And _nobody_ is to go and retrieve a book without the librarian present. They will have full control over the library. So long as it is kept up to my standards.”

Cogsworth bowed and promised it would be taken care of.

 

* * *

 

Belle was glad to have Chip as a distraction on the way to the castle. Despite living only a short distance from the castle for the past seven years, she had never seen the place. But there had been wild stories about that place, its contents, and its inhabitants. Particularly, the Prince.

Belle and her father had been surprised when the Potts family had come to call on them one afternoon. Most people in the village considered Belle and her father odd, and steered clear of their house: Mr. Potts and Gaston being the only exceptions but only the former had ever been allowed to cross the threshold.

Mr. Potts swept off his hat and proudly introduced his wife and son. Belle and Maurice had not seen mother or son very often. Mrs. Potts worked in the castle and Chip spent most of his time trailing after her.

“This is the girl I was telling you about, mistress,” said Mr. Potts. Belle frowned, but she was curious. Mr. Potts was nice enough, but even he thought it was odd how much she liked to read. As they all sat down for tea in Belle and Maurice’s modest home, Mrs. Potts explained.

“There’s been an opening at the castle,” said Mrs. Potts. “It’s good work, good pay, and if what Mr. Potts has told me is true, I think you’d be a fine fit for a librarian.”

Mr. Potts agreed to drive her out to the castle with Mrs. Potts and Chip. Belle sat in the back of the modest little carriage and chatted with the young boy.

“You’ll love the castle,” Chip was telling her. “It’s HUGE! And the staff is really nice!”

“What about the prince?” Belle asked. “What’s he like?”

Chip immediately clammed up and refused to meet her eyes. Not for the first time, Belle was beginning to feel apprehensive about this job. Mrs. Potts turned to look at them and shook her head.

“Oh, don’t you worry. Chip’s just shy around the master, is all,” Mrs. Potts assured her. Mr. Potts cleared his throat. Belle saw the Missus narrow her eyes at her husband for a moment before turning back to Belle.

“If Cogsworth likes you and you get the job, you won’t even meet the master for some time. He’s gone away and won’t be back for weeks.”

Belle thought carefully about what she was to say next. “I’ve heard…rumors…” Just because her nose was often stuck in a book, didn’t mean she wasn’t listening. Villagers talked. They seldom did little else.

“The master is not as terrible as people say or as he appears. He’s going to seem off-putting at first but somewhere, deep in his soul, there’s a real Prince Charming. Just remember that he is all bark and no bite. But from what Mr. Potts has told me and from what I’ve observed, I suspect you’ll be able to give as good as you get, should the master start his barking.”

The gates to the castle grounds swung open and Belle finally got her first good glimpse of the castle. It was…grand, spectacular, wonderful, enchanting. A thousand adjectives ran through Belle’s head and none were good enough to describe it. The whole place seemed alive. Dotted throughout the massive gardens were workers trimming hedges and working on the numerous fountains. She saw movement in the windows as the people inside went about their work. Belle breathed in deep. Oh, the flowers smelled wonderful!

“Normally, we would go around to the servant’s entrance,” Mr. Potts explained over his shoulder. “But the master’s not here today, so we can bend the rules a little.” Chip laughed.

“Cogsworth’s gonna be _mad_ ,” he warned his father teasingly.

“If he is, I’ll take care of him,”said Mrs. Potts. Finally, something clicked in Belle’s head that should have clicked long ago.

“Cogsworth?” Belle echoed. “Any relation to-?” If there was, she would _not_ be getting this job. Clothilde Cogsworth hated her for no other fact than she was a girl that could read.

Mr. Potts and Chip shuddered. “Yes,” answered Mr. Potts. He knew exactly who Belle was speaking of. “They’re married.”

_Damn!_ thought Belle. She had been looking forward to seeing the library, too. Belle had been given no other description of the library than that it was _huge_ (Chip’s favorite word, it seemed.) Her disappointment must have showed on her face.

“Don’t you worry,” said Mrs. Potts. “Cogsworth and his wife disagree on _everything_. If she doesn’t like you, then that’s all the more reason for Cogsworth to want to hire you.”

Two people were awaiting their arrival at the front doors of the castle. Belle was beginning to suspect that the dress code of the castle was “dress to impress.” The woman was dressed in all white from head to toe. The man next to her was so bright in his gold ensemble, Belle found herself squinting. Both smiled amiably at her and the man came forward to help her down from the carriage.

_“Bonjour, mademoiselle,_ ” he greeted. He swept into a bow. Belle smiled and curtsied back to him. “Pleased to make your acquaintance. I am Lumiere and this is Plumette, _mon amour,_ ” Lumiere looked admiringly at his companion. Plumette curtsied to Belle.

“I am the head housemaid here,” said Plumette. Belle looked behind her at the massive castle looming overhead.

“That seems like quite an undertaking,” Belle remarked, a little breathlessly. Plumette and Lumiere laughed. Belle thanked Mr. Potts for the ride. He would stick around until after her interview was over and give her a ride back to the village. She left him to be with his wife and child and followed Lumiere and Plumette into the castle. She watched Plumette loop her arm through Lumiere’s. They seldom took their eyes off of each other. It was like something out of one of Belle’s stories. Belle smiled.

It was hard to take in her surroundings and listen to what Lumiere and Plumette were saying at the same time. The castle was breathtaking inside and out. But the inside was deathly quiet and still. Belle felt as if she had stumbled across a slumbering beast. They passed a set of double doors that were boarded up with weathered planks of wood. Lumiere noticed where Belle’s eyes had gone.

“The ballroom,” Lumiere said, shaking his head sadly. “It is a shame. We have not had a party here in years. Not even a cake for the master’s birthday.”

Belle had heard stories in the village about what the parties used to be like. Like a dream, said one. Excessive and decadent, said another. One rumor she had heard still made her blush to think about it and there would be no books in a village priest’s modest collection that could explain what she had overheard.

They ushered her through the kitchens and through the narrow hallways of the servant’s quarters. Lumiere knocked twice before opening the door.

_“Mademoiselle Belle_ ,” introduced Lumiere. Belle was pushed inside the room by Plumette and she found herself face to face with the poor man that married Clothilde Cogsworth.

Cogsworth was also decked head to toe in gold-colored clothing, but he did not shine nearly as brightly as Cogsworth. Belle spied a pocket watch tucked away into the pocket of his waistcoat. He seemed to exude an air of importance. Clearly, he was one of the higher-ranking staff and he ran this castle like a captain ran his ship.

Plumette and Lumiere left them alone. Cogsworth was gracious enough to offer her a cup of tea.

The interview went better than Belle could have hoped for. Either because she was the best candidate for the job or because they couldn’t find another person willing to undertake the job. Belle suspected the latter. She was confident that she could do the job well, but based on the pay offered her and the rumors she had heard of the prince’s behavior…

A dog came running into the office, interrupting Belle and Cogsworth. Even the dog was dressed to the nines in a little embroidered coat and ribbons in its tail. A woman appeared in the doorway moments later in a sea of skirts, ruffles, and bows.

“May I present _Madame de Garderobe,_ ” said Cogsworth. “She is the court singer here and has only recently returned from a tour of Italy with her husband _Maestro Cadenza_. Madame, this is Belle.”

Madame de Garderobe gasped happily at the sight of Belle. _“Finally!”_ she cried breathlessly. “A _woman!_ You have brought someone for me to dress!” The woman seized Belle’s face in her hands and began studying her closely. “Pretty eyes, proud face, perfect canvas! Yes, yes! I will make something for you worthy of a princess!”

“She’s not a princess, she’s the librarian,” Cogsworth corrected. Madame de Garderobe brushed him off.

“I will still be making her dresses,” she insisted. Belle hoped that whatever dress the singer made for her was a bit less…well, just _less._ Her brain caught up to what Cogsworth said and she turned back to the older man.

“I-you’re giving me the job?” Belle asked breathlessly. Cogsworth looked at her with a twinkle in his eye.

“Would you like to see the library?”

Belle had been expecting a large room. Maybe something larger than her house. She had expected a larger collection than Père Robert possessed. She was not expecting what was behind the doors Cogsworth led her through. Belle’s heart hammered in her chest. She turned in circles, trying to take everything in. Finally she had an appropriate word to describe something in this castle. _Wonderful_. The library was _wonderful_.

“Are you alright, _mademoiselle_?” Lumiere and Plumette were watching her from the door with Madame de Garderobe. Cogsworth was waiting patiently for her opinion. Belle covered her mouth with her hands and laughed incredulously. She had never seen so many books in her entire life and now she was in charge of this _whole collection_.

Belle was more than alright. She was _thrilled._

She returned to the castle several days later, this time with a small trunk of her belongings and a plan for the library in mind. Cogsworth was right about the library being disorganized. In her quick inspection of the library the other day, Belle had found a book badly in need of rebinding she suspected there was more. Some of the shelves needed some repairs as well. It would be a behemoth of a project but she was ready to do it. She was ready to do it. Perhaps this wasn’t quite what she had in mind for her adventure in the Great Wide Somewhere, but it was still something new and exciting all the same. Her love of books was no longer something to be scoffed at.

However, it would seem that some things never changed.

“A girl for a librarian?” scoffed one of the maids. Giselle, Belle recalled. She didn’t think she and Giselle would get along. “What do girls need to read for? Men don’t like it when the women are too smart.”

“Well, you must have to beat the men away from dusk to dawn,” Plumette said between sips of her tea. Belle was going to get along with Plumette just fine.

She had arrived at the castle just in time for lunch. After her first bite, Belle almost declared that she would work here for no pay if it meant she could have this food all the time. Besides the sour-faced and side-burned Giselle, Belle got along perfectly well with the rest of the staff. Plumette showed her to her room in the quarters meant for the unmarried female staff.

“And you don’t have to share with Giselle,” Plumette added. A single bed, a wash basin, a night stand, and her trunk resting at the foot of the bed made up this modest room. Yes, it would do nicely.

Belle had a full day of work ahead of her. She suspected Cogsworth would not be entirely happy when he learned what all of her plans for the library entailed, but Belle was sure it would all be worth it in the end. Although she was curious about the castle’s owner, Belle was a little glad to know she had some time to mentally prepare herself with the man some of the villagers ominously referred to as The Beast.


	2. First Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam returns to the castle and meets his new librarian. They don't hit it off.

Adam did not return to the library for a month. He had been called away on some urgent business and was not in the castle. He returned in the middle of the night and crashed onto his bed, still in his traveling clothes. He didn’t awake until late the next morning, when Mrs. Potts brought him his breakfast, followed in closely by Cogsworth.

“What news do you bring me today, Cogsworth?” Adam folded his napkin over his lap and began to tuck into the porridge that Mrs. Potts had placed in front of him. He nodded approvingly while the woman busied herself at the tea cart.

In answer to his inquiry, Cogsworth handed him a list of names. “These are the names of book binders in Paris. All of them come highly recommended.”

Adam put the list back down and pushed it away from himself. “What need do I have of book binders?”

Cogsworth cleared his throat. “Well the librarian has been going through your collection and found a number of volumes that are in need of being rebound. Thirty-seven in total.”

Adam brightened up. “You found a librarian? So soon?”

Cogsworth nodded. “Yes and they’re doing a marvelous job so far. For two weeks now. The librarian has been hard at work cataloging your entire collection.”

“And that’s how they found these books that need rebinding? Very well, then. Have someone pack the books and taken them to Paris. They leave tomorrow morning. Any other news?”

“Yes, sir. There is a matter of-”

“Hold on.” Adam held his hand up. Cogsworth looked up from his papers and Mrs. Potts paused in placing the cup of tea in front of him. “I had a book on that bedside table when I left. Where has it gone? Has somebody been sneaking about my private rooms?” Though his voice sounded cool and controlled to an outside observer, Cogsworth and Mrs. Potts knew him better than that.

“Oh, not at all, sir.” Mrs. Potts waved off his concerns. “The librarian just need a proper account of all the books, you see? I got the book from your rooms. I’m sure if you go down to the library later today and ask politely for it and they’ll get it right back to you.”

Adam threw back his cup of tea in one big gulp and stood up. “This is _my_ castle, Mrs. Potts. I do not ask for what is rightfully mine. Cogsworth, I want to meet with this librarian.”

Cogsworth bowed. “Right away, sir.” It had been Cogsworth’s intention to lead his Prince to the library, but Adam was in a right temper now and Cogsworth found himself trying to keep up with Adam storming down the castle corridors. His servants hastily made way for him, making sure to bow or curtsy; whether out of respect or fear, he was unsure. Any signs of laughter or merriment died out at his approach.

The library doors were already open when Adam reached them. He froze barely inside the doors, one of his feet still raised comically, his jaw dropped.

If Adam had thought his library disorganized before he left, it was even more of a mess now. Nearly every shelf had been emptied and every available surface was stacked high with piles and piles of books. Maids and manservants were going up and down ladders with rags and dusters. Even the curtains were gone. It was much brighter in here than he was accustomed to.

Somewhere behind the piles of books, he spotted the top of Lumiere’s head. Adam sighed. If he caught Lumiere and Plumette having a “moment” again, his servants would see what losing one’s temper was really like. He made his way quietly around the towers of books, silently seething

Cogsworth cleared his throat. A hush seemed to fall over the room and the flurry of activity stopped. He could see the color drain from several people’s faces at the sight of him. A maid nearly slipped and fell off of a ladder in shock.

“Your majesty,” said Cogsworth. “Allow me to introduce your new librarian, _Mademoiselle Belle_. She came very highly recommended by none other than _Monsieur Potts_ and has made immense progress on your library in your absence.”

Finally, they stepped into view to confront the librarian. _Mademoiselle Belle_ was a strikingly beautiful young woman, Adam had to admit to himself, with her shining brown hair and her large brown eyes. He had never thought much of brown eyes before, but they suited this woman just fine.

Belle smiled warmly at him and gave him a curtsy. It was quick, clumsy, and awkward. He didn’t expect anything less.

“ _Allo,_ your majesty!” Lumiere’s eyes were barely peaking over the pile of books in his arms. “It is so nice to see you have returned! I would bow, but I am afraid of what _Mademoiselle Belle_ would do to me if I dropped all of these books.”

“I have complete faith in you, Lumiere!” Belle assured him. She picked up another book from the table in front of her and quickly flipped through it. Nodding to herself, she bent over a large tome and jotted something down in neat, slanted script. She added the book to the top of the pile.

“You remember where the poetry section is, I trust?” Belle asked.

Lumiere laughed. “Remember? Yes, of course! See it? Not so much.” Plumette emerged as if from nowhere. She gave a quick, proper, curtsy to Adam and put a gentle hand on Lumiere’s shoulder. She guided him away through the books and Belle turned her attention back to Adam and Cogsworth.

“Your collection is wonderful,” Belle complimented. “It’s been a pleasure working with so many books.”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “Yes, while I’m sure it’s been an immense…pleasure for you, I have to wonder where all the progress that Cogsworth spoke of is.” You could have heard a pin drop. Belle’s jaw tightened and Cogsworth looked immensely uncomfortable. Adam either took no notice or did not care. “All I can see are piles of books and a lack of curtains.”

Belle squared her shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. “The curtains are outside, being beaten. As for your books…your collection, while impressive was horribly disorganized and mishandled when I came here. I found over three dozen books in need of rebinding. There wasn’t even a record anywhere of all of your books and I’ve been painstakingly going through all of them and cataloging them.” She indicated the tome on the table.

Adam clenched his teeth tightly for a minute, reigning in his temper. “You had a book I had not finished reading taken from my private quarters,” he said quietly. His other servants (with the exception of Mrs. Potts) would look fearful with him when he used that tone of voice. Belle seemed unfazed. She paused thoughtfully for a moment, then snapped her fingers.

“I remember that one. Mrs. Potts said you might come looking for it,” Belle disappeared into the next room, behind another pile of books. She came back with the book in question.

“ _Don Quixote_ ,” Belle announced. “Your bookmark is even in the same place you left it.” She held the book out to him. Adam snatched it away.

Without another word to the librarian or any of the numerous pairs of watchful eyes, he stormed out of the library.

 

* * *

 

“A little too early for wine, don’t you think?” Adam scowled.

“This is France, Mrs. Potts. It is never too early for wine.” He could _feel_ the older woman roll her eyes. He hadn’t turned to face her, choosing instead to continue looking out the window.

“I take it you’ve met Belle, then?” Mrs. Potts inquired. He didn’t answer, opting to sip more of his wine instead. “She’s a fine girl. So very intelligent and ahead of her time and so full of spirit. All the other staff like her very much. Even stodgy old Cogsworth seems to have been charmed by her.”

“Give me a good reason why I shouldn’t have Cogsworth fire her,” Adam demanded. “She’s already destroyed the library and insulted me in front of half the staff. I’m sure they’re all having a great laugh about it.”

Mrs. Potts huffed. “Nobody’s laughing at anything. And if you must know, she’s the only one within a hundred miles willing to sort through your books. You’ve earned a reputation, dear, and not a good one at that. Belle, bless her soul, either did not hear of it or her love of books outweighed the negative aspects of working here. I think it’s the latter. You need her whether you like it or not.”

“If working here is so horrible, why are you still around? Why is anybody?” Adam whirled around to face Mrs. Potts, nostrils flaring. Mrs. Potts, unfazed, closed the distance between them and rested a hand on Adam’s cheek.

“Because I love you. Ever since you were just a chubby cheeked little boy. Because you are not as terrible as you like to present yourself to the outside word and everyone here can see through that. Belle will, too, if you give her time.” Adam closed his eyes and sighed, almost leaning into the touch. Almost, but he didn’t. He pulled away and went back to the window.

“You are excused, Mrs. Potts.” She left so silently Adam wondered if she had ever really been there in the first place.

 

* * *

 

“Well, that was quite a show today,” Giselle remarked cattily. Belle’s relationship with the maid had not improved over the short time she had lived in the castle. Personally, she would have preferred to read at the dinner table instead, but she was apprehensive about taking books out of the library. Especially after what had happened today.

Belle cut into her chicken, electing to ignore Giselle. The maid, however, would not rest until she had successfully goaded Belle into reacting.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen the master get so angry with someone so quickly.”

“Then clearly, you have something severely wrong with your memory,” Cogsworth told her coldly. When it came to making Giselle hold her tongue, Cogsworth and Mrs. Potts were most effective.

“You’re all going to frighten the poor girl away talking about the master like that,” Mrs. Potts admonished. “I think you’re doing a fine job with the library.”

“And the prince? What does he think?” Belle ventured to ask.

“Don’t worry about him,” said Mrs. Potts “He’ll come around.”

 _That bad, then_ , Belle thought to herself.

“I can see how it might be a shock for him,” Belle reasoned. “And while it might not look like much now, it will all be much better organized in the coming months.”

Giselle scoffed. “And how long will the other maids and myself be expected to fall behind in our work to help in the library?”

“If you’re falling behind in your work that’s your own fault,” snapped Plumette. “And you will help out in the library for as long as I say you must.”

An uneasy, tense silence fell over the table until Giselle excused herself to get back to her work. Thankfully that work would not be in the library.

“So what did you think of the master?” Plumette asked when the other maid had disappeared. “He is handsome, no?”

Belle considered this question and then nodded. “He is,” she admitted. _And rude,_ she added to herself. “Exactly like that portrait you showed me.” She had been given a full tour of the castle on her first day. To satiate her curiosity, she was shown to the West Wing, but under _no circumstances_ was she to come here again without the supervision of Mrs. Potts, Cogsworth, Lumiere, or Plumette and never without the express permission of the master.

The portrait of the prince had been the first time she had seen his likeness. He had not visited Villeneuve in the time Belle and her father had lived there. The villagers that remembered when he had last come through the town recalled that he was “the spitting image of his mother, but like his father in every other way.” While the man in the portrait was handsome, he looked arrogant and proud. It seemed she had been proven right.

“Did he live up to all the rumors about him in your village?” Lumiere asked teasingly. There was a twinkle in his eye.

“No, he did not. Not _all_ of them,” Belle said. “But I’ve only met him just the once. He could still do something to confirm the stories.”

Mrs. Potts shook her head. “I will say it until you believe me. The master is-”

 _“Not as terrible as he appears,”_ the rest of the table finished. Clearly they were all used to hearing this. Belle wondered if that’s how the prince signed his letters. _Yours truly, Prince Adam, not as terrible as I appear_.

“Don’t be so hard on him,” Mrs. Potts implored. “He’ll change.” Belle agreed, but she was still skeptical. Nobody can change _that_ much. At least with the prince, she knew that his bad temper and rude words were genuine. She had had her share of handsome men who only said pretty things because they wanted something in return. At least she knew early on exactly how Prince Adam felt about her.

 

* * *

 

Dinner was always a bore these days. When Adam was not hosting guests or a grand ball he normally ate by himself save for a few footmen that waited nearby to take his plates away and present him with another course. It had been years since he felt like hosting a party. Sometimes, he would ask Maestro Cadenza to play something for him. His valet Chapeau could sometimes be called upon to play the violin. Tonight, however, he opted for a simpler meal and dismissed everyone from the room.

“I wish to be alone,” he said. “Go away. You can come and get my plates whenever you’re done with your own meals.” If he made an effort to come downstairs to the dining room and acted like he cared, then Mrs. Potts would not look at him with _those eyes_. It was why he was not opting to eat up in his room again like he had done countless times in the past and like he wanted to do now.

The empty chairs seemed to stare back at him.

The crackling of the fire and the scrape of silverware were the only noises in the dining room to keep Adam company. Distantly, he could hear muffled chatter from the staff’s dining hall. It sounded as if they were having a happy, lovely time.

And for that moment, Adam envied them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First Impressions was the first, alternate title of Pride and Prejudice. Pride and Prejudice is also a kind of Beauty and the Beast story. Also, any time the staff is in their area of the castle, I imagine it to be a lot like Downton Abbey.
> 
> Adam likes to mope in his private time. Mrs. Potts can get away with a lot of shit with him because she is the missing mother figure in his life.


	3. A Beast, not a Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plumette clears up some rumors, Belle visits home, Adam makes some changes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some brief mention of adult themes ahead

Plumette came to Belle’s room just as she had pulled back the covers to climb into bed. The head housemaid was already pretty, but without her wig and her black curls falling over her shoulders and around her face, she was stunning. No wonder Lumiere was so in love with her.

“You survived your first encounter with The Beast,” said Plumette as she shut the door behind. “What? You thought I did not know what the people say of him?” Belle had the good sense to look embarrassed for listening to the rumors in the first place. But at least they had been talking about something other than how _odd_ she was.

Plumette sat at the foot of Belle’s bed and patted the spot next to her. “Why don’t you tell me what you’ve heard? I can tell you what is true and what is not?”

Belle twisted her mother’s ring as she thought carefully on what to say next. Despite their first encounter and despite everything that she had heard, it was clear that the staff was devoted to Prince Adam. _She_ was now a member of his staff. Could she really repeat some of the things she had heard?

Plumette patted the space again. “I will not say anything to anyone and nothing you can say will shock me. You are a brave girl, but even I can see that he can…unsettle someone who is not used to him.”

Belle let out a breath she did not know she had been holding and sank down on the mattress next to Plumette. “Well, I hear he has a temper.”

Plumette rolled her eyes. “Yes, he can. I will admit that I was a little frightened the first time his anger was directed at _me_ , but it passes quickly. And he does not possess a single violent bone in his body, if you were worried about him striking you.”

Belle wanted to deny that she was worried about that. But when she had handed his book back to him in the library her imagination had flared up and she thought he might bring the book down on her head, her shoulder, or across her face.

Belle had _never_ been struck before and in that moment she had been frightened of the possibility. Plumette was already doing wonders for her nerves.

“They say that there used to be grand parties and balls held here,” Belle continued. Plumette nodded sadly.

“Yes, there were. But it has been a good number of years since we’ve had a ball. I do miss the dancing! And the master used to love dancing, too. Or, at least, he liked being the center of attention. He’s locked himself away since that last party. Even before then, he didn’t venture far from here. His trip to Paris was the first time he’s gone outside of a ten-mile radius of the castle in years.”

 _Interesting_ , thought Belle. The Beast was in a self-imposed exile.

Belle blushed when she brought up her next point. “They say he’s… _been with_ women,” she muttered.

Plumette shrugged. “Yes. But he’s fathered no children.”

Belle felt her face flaming as she struggled to bring herself to say one of the more illicit rumors. “They say he’s been with more than one woman…at the same time.”

Plumette stared at her blankly for a few agonizing seconds and then collapsed face-first onto Belle’s bed into peals of laughter. That had been embarrassing but, judging by Plumette’s reaction, Belle was relieved to know it isn’t true. Wiping away tears of mirth and fanning herself, Plumette regained her composure but still smiled widely.

“Your village is not very creative with their rumors if that is the best they can come up with,” Plumette teased. “I will tell you a little secret: it has been, let me think…four years. Nearly five. He didn’t even find one when he last went to Paris because if he had, Chapeau would have told Lumiere and Lumiere tells me _everything_.”

There was one more thing that bothered her and made her uneasy. She had put it far from her mind but the return of the prince to the castle had made her think of it again. “These women he has been with. Did they…were they _willing_ or…” Belle shook her head, a little ashamed at asking the question.

“Is that a rumor that goes around?” Plumette asked.

“I only heard it once and it was more speculation than a story masquerading as the truth.”

Plumette frowned and Belle was worried she had crossed a line. “People tell ugly lies,” the maid finally said. “No. Any woman that the master has been with gave their full consent. They went willingly. The master looks upon men who do such things as-well, if he ever came face to face with one, we might finally see what he looks like when he _really_ loses his temper. He may be a beast sometimes, but he is _not_ a monster.”

Plumette patted Belle’s knee and rose from the bed. “Rest easy, _mon amie_. And if he is ever cruel to you in any way, just tell Mrs. Potts. She’s the only one he’s afraid of.”

On Fridays, Chapeau normally had an errand to run in the village. Fridays were also the days that she had arranged with Cogsworth for her to visit home. Her father had never been on his own for very long stretches of time and he was more dependent on Belle than she was on him. Maybe when she had saved up enough of her wages, Belle could get a second horse. She couldn’t take Phillipe away from her father. Until that time, she rode in a carriage with Chapeau to the village and on Sundays she could always depend upon the Potts family to take her back to the castle.

Belle’s father stood waiting by the road, looking out for her return. He lifted his hat in greeting when the carriage came into view. Even from a distance, there was no mistaking the warm smile on his face. Coming home was always nice, but after this week, it felt more like relief.

“My dear Belle,” Maurice greeted. He led Belle into the house. Belle breathed the scents of home in deep. Oh, she was glad to be here. “How did this week go? Find any hidden rooms?”

Belle laughed. “No. But _he_ came back to the castle.” Maurice paused in filling up the kettle and turned back to face Belle.

“Oh, really?” he said. “Well, what was he like? Did he live up to all the talk?”

Belle shook her head. “I only met him just the once. The first impression wasn’t a great one but compared to the stories? I would say the prince was a bit of a letdown.”

Maurice processed this for a moment and then let out a sigh of relief. “Thank god!” said he. “I can rest easier, knowing he’s not a beast.”

“Oh, he is a beast,” said Belle, echoing Plumette’s words. “But he isn’t a monster.” Maurice went back to his work after tea and Belle started in on the chores and errands. She went through the list in her head: _tend to the garden, go to the market, visit P_ _ère Robert, do some washing_. The house seemed clean enough so she needn’t worry about that.

A few coins from her wages jingled in her apron pocket. Taxes had remained high for years and Belle was sure most of her wages were going to go toward paying them.

Agathe, a beggar woman, was being ignored on her usual corner. Belle paused, thoughtfully weigh the coins in her pocket. Yes, she could spare one. Besides, she liked Agathe. The woman was very kind and polite when you could actually get a word out of her. She also had the most remarkable look in her eyes. The woman herself was not very old but her eyes looked as if they were filled with centuries of wisdom and knowledge.

“No book on her today,” Belle heard a woman comment while she waited for her cheese to be sliced. “Maybe she’s finally wised up and learned that all that reading isn’t attractive.”

“No, didn’t you hear?” a man said to the woman. “She’s working at the castle now. As a _librarian_.”

The woman scoffed. “A librarian? What’s that?”

“I think she’s getting paid to read books,” the man speculated. If only that were true. Belle hadn’t had the chance to read a single one of the books. She did, however, have a list of all the titles she had found in the library so far that had interested her.

Belle could practically hear the woman shake her head. “Why does any woman need to know how to read? What a funny girl!”

Père Robert was also intrigued to hear of her first encounter with The Beast. He had seen very little of the man. “Not since his father was alive.” The priest pursed his lips together. Belle looked at him inquisitively. She could tell he was thinking of something.

“It is unwise to speak ill of the dead,” he finally said. Belle quirked an eyebrow.

“And of the living?”

Père Robert smiled widely at her. “It is better to speak of the issues you have with others than to leave them bottled up. First impressions are important, but I would advise you not to cement your opinion too quickly. People can change.”

“Not that much,” argued Belle.

“Some change happens very gradually and sometimes unexpectedly. Some people are as unmovable as mountains but others are more like shifting sands. The prince might do better with a second, third, or even fourth impression. But enough about him. Tell me all about your progress in that wonderful library."

 

* * *

 

Adam was not _avoiding_ the library. It was his own castle. He could go anywhere he liked, any time he liked. Which was precisely why he did not return to the library for over two weeks after first encountering Belle there. That and with all of his other duties, he didn’t have the time to finish his reading. But now he was done and ready to bring his book back.

The library was not the hustle and bustle of activity that it had been when he had first returned. To Adam’s immense displeasure, the books were still lying about on every available surface but many had been put away on shelves, so he _supposed_ that was an improvement.

Belle came back into the first room of the library, pushing a tea cart she had gotten from who knows where laden with books. She paused when she saw Adam and dropped into her clumsy curtsy. “Your majesty,” she greeted.

“No need to stop working. I only came to return this.” He held out Don Quixote. Belle took the book back from him.

“Thank you,” Belle said. “Have you heard any news about the books being rebound in Paris? I’d hoped to have them back soon.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “Cogsworth has not said anything to me about it. If you want news of the books you need to ask him, not me.” He looked about at the empty library. “I see you haven’t taken the staff away from their usual duties today.”

“They have all been very kind and helpful since I came here and they spare a minute when they can,” Belle replied.

“Sparing tea carts, too, I see,” Adam drolled. Belle stared him down again. He could tell she was a stubborn one and that her stubbornness would cause some problems down the road. “Well, the _progress_ might be slow but at least you’re doing something with your time.”

“Did you need any help finding another book?” Belle inquired. Adam got the impression that _she_ was attempting to dismiss _him_ from his own library. “Or perhaps you came to help put away some books?”

Adam sneered at her. “I have better things to do with my time than to stoop so low as to assist you in destroying my library.”

Others might have looked at him ashamed or afraid. Belle was neither. “Your library was already a disaster before I came here.”

“Oh and I suppose you think I should be thanking you for all the _hard work_ you’ve put into my library?” Adam said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Belle raised an eyebrow at him.

“Considering that I discovered some shelves were on the verge of collapse and convinced Cogsworth that they were in desperate need of repair, thereby saving the books from crashing down on top of you and possibly destroying those volumes forever…yes.”

Adam could feel the ugly monster that was his temper rise inside of him. He was seeing red and his fingers twitched. He wanted to throw something. It wasn’t until he heard a surprised gasp from Belle that he realized he had stepped closer to her, was leaning over her. She was cornered, trapped.

 _What am I doing?_  

Adam fought back against the storm inside of him. He took a step back from Belle and then another. He saw her begin to breathe a little easier and a strange sense of self-loathing surged up inside of him.

 _What am I doing_ _?_ Adam asked himself again.

He turned on his heel and stalked out of the library. “I will be speaking with Cogsworth,” he said warningly. What about, he did not know. He would think on it.

 

* * *

 

Adam took several days to decide what he wanted to say to Cogsworth about Belle. He wanted to make the librarian worry and squirm. Make her think that she was to be cast out of the castle. But that would be too hasty of a decision. Finally he thought of something appropriate and invited Cogsworth to his office to discuss the matter.

“That librarian you hired,” Adam began. Immediately Cogsworth began to pale. The man was already worried about trying to hire another one. But no, Adam was not going to dismiss her from her job. She might be a fool, but she was not completely hopeless. “She’s getting a little too comfortable in her position here. Cut her wages in half.”

 _“Half_ , sir?” said Cogsworth, incredulous. “She would be getting paid less than a scullery maid-”

“When she learns not to be so argumentative, we can raise her wage again,” reasoned Adam. A knock sounded at the door and Lumiere entered. “Ah, just the man I wanted to see. Could you find someone to fetch the librarian and bring her here? Cogsworth and I were just discussing her wages and felt she should be included.” Adam smirked. He thought of what her face would look like when they told her: how it would fall. He imagined her face and instead of satisfaction, he felt hollow.

He should not feel that way. Belle deserved what was coming to her. She did. Did she?

Yes. She did.

Lumiere wrung his hands together. He looked nervous. “Forgive me, your majesty,” he said. “But the librarian is not in today.”

Adam glared. This was not what he wanted to hear. If he wanted someone, they should be at his beck and call. Not _missing_. “If she’s not here, where is she?”

Lumiere laughed nervously. “Well, sir, she goes home to the village on Friday afternoons and she comes back on Sundays. To be with her father, you see.”

“She goes _home_?” Adam echoed. “She goes _home?_ What is the point of having a librarian for my library if she’s not even here all of the time?”

“Sir, it is her income from this job that helps support the two of them!” Lumiere spoke quickly. He was trying and failing to reason with Adam before his temper flared. “Belle is all the family her father has. Surely, that cannot be so terrible?”

“No!” Adam said sarcastically. “Not terrible at all. I’ll just have to deal with having a _part time librarian_ so I don’t inconvenience anybody else in my own castle!”

Cogsworth cleared his throat. “Sire? Perhaps we could make a different arrangement? One where she could visit home twice a month?”

Adam pushed away from his desk and impatiently began pacing in front of the fire. “Why should I have to negotiate? Why should I compromise? It is _my_ library and _I_ hired her.”

“With all due respect, sir, _I_ was the one who hired her.” Adam stared at Cogsworth in shock. He had _never_ been spoken to by the old man like that. Cogsworth was always a master of assuring Adam that he was always right and everyone else was always wrong. To be spoken to in such a way was almost a betrayal.

“Mrs. Potts can come and go from the castle as she pleases to be with her husband and her child,” Lumiere pointed out. “What is so different about Belle’s situation?”

 _It is different because Belle is different,_ Adam wanted to say. Belle was so very different from any woman or any person he had ever met. And this irritated him to no end.

“She can go home once a month,” Adam finally decided. “The library will never be completed at the rate she is going. Give her a bedroom in the east wing, close to the library. The earlier in the day she can get started on her work, the better. Her wages will remain the same.”

Cogsworth and Lumiere sputtered in unison and surprise. “The east wing?” said Cogsworth. “Are you quite certain, sir? It is highly unusual for a member of staff-”

In a flurry of movement Adam picked up the wine glass he had been drinking from and threw it into the fire. The shattering glass was a pleasing sound to his foul mood.

“Did I _stammer,_ Cogsworth?” Adam roared. “You are my head of household. Do as you’re told.”

 

* * *

 

Belle’s first thought on returning to the castle was that her room had been robbed. She suspected Giselle immediately. Plumette found her standing in her doorway and led her to Cogsworth’s office.

Belle felt ashamed. Yes, the prince had been rude and a bit alarming, but she was about to be dismissed from her position. She missed the books already.

 _“Mademoiselle,_ ” greeted Cogsworth. “Please sit down. I have spoken with his majesty and there will be a few changes in your position.”

Plumette showed her to her new room in the east wing when Cogsworth was done speaking with her. “Lumiere picked it out for you,” said the maid. “It is nice, _non?_ ”

Nice did not begin to describe the room. No, not a room, a _suite_. She now slept in a place that was larger than her house in Villeneuve. Plumette began to put away Belle’s things in the wardrobe for her.

“Should I be worried?” Belle ventured to ask. “Giving me a room like this…surely the prince did not really mean I should move into the east wing?”

“Oh, he was very insistent on it,” Plumette said. “It is very close to the library. Closer than the staff’s quarters are.”

“Has he ever given a member of his staff a room like this? For any reason at all?”

Plumette paused. Belle wished she was not turned away from her so she could not see the maid’s face.

“No. Never,” Plumette finally admitted.

Belle sighed shakily and sat down on the edge of the large bed. “I’ll need to find some ink and paper,” she said aloud. “I’ll need to write to my father and tell him not to expect me for some time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suspect that Agathe got mad about the taxes and that's why Adam was cursed in the movie.
> 
> Robert's comments on how people change are a reference to the titular song. If you listen to the demo version, the lyrics were originally "then somebody bends, very gradually."


	4. Anything To Do With Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam opens mouth, inserts foot.

Adam had never really paid much attention to Mrs. Potts boy Chip. The boy was almost always hidden just out of sight or behind his mother. He noticed him just enough to make sure he was on his best behavior and never swore in front of the boy. Still, he felt like anything he said or did made the boy jump.

_“Maman!”_ Chip came running headlong into the drawing room. He froze in his tracks at the sight of the prince. Adam, pretended not to notice the young boy’s blunder and continued to read his papers by the fireside.

“Chip!” Mrs. Potts admonished. “What have I told you about running? You’re disturbing the master.”

“He’s doing nothing of the sort,” Adam spoke aloud. “I can wait on my tea. Your son comes first.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mrs. Potts crouch down to be at her son’s level. “What is it, dear?” she asked gently.

“Belle said she would teach me how to read! If that’s alright with you” Chip added shyly. Adam still looked at the papers in his hand but his eyes glazed over the words. He was more interested in the conversation going on at present than what was in front of him.

“Oh is she? How lovely!” Mrs. Potts swept in to kiss her son’s cheek as he squirmed. “I think Belle will be a wonderful teacher!”

Adam tucked the papers into his coat pocket and abandoned any pretense of not listening. “If the librarian wants to teach him how to read, she could teach him how to write as well,” Adam said thoughtfully. “Most boys his age would be going to school next year but then again, most boys his age don’t live in a castle. He’ll have more advantages in his education. Your boy could go very far, Mrs.Potts.”

Chip went to look at some baubles on the table while Mrs. Potts busied herself with the tea.

“Hmm,” said Mrs. Potts “After the fuss you made about the library the other week, I wouldn’t have expected you to agree with all of this. I thought you would have said that teaching Chip how to read would take Belle away from her duties or some such nonsense.”

“Well, the library is coming along much better now. At least, I assume so. I haven’t actually been there for some time.” Mrs. Potts thrust his teacup at him, truly exasperated.

“Honestly! If you actually tried to get to know the girl, you might find that you two actually have a few things in common.”

Adam looked skeptical. “Like what?”

“Well you both like books. Why don’t you try starting there?” Adam rolled his eyes.

“I doubt she reads anything besides _romances_.” Adam shuddered at the thought.

Chip stuck his tongue out and muttered “Gross.”

“See? Chip agrees with me.” The young boy in question hastily turned around to look at the baubles and knickknacks again.

“Chip can’t read,” Mrs. Potts reminded him. “Besides maybe you could introduce Belle to some new things to read and she could do the same for you. Then you could finally stop being so cold to her.”

Adam shook his head. He was beginning to lose his patience.

That was when it happened.

A gasp. A crash. The sound of glass shattering.

Chip stood there in shock and surprise, the remains of some ugly knickknack in shattered pieces around his feet and all over the floor. The boy’s bottom lip began to quiver.

Adam’s stomach turned to ice. _He’s hurt_.

He was in front of Chip in an instant. “What happened?” he demanded sharply. “What did you do?”

Chip did not answer. Adam saw blood drip onto the floor.

“Show me your hands!” Adam ordered. _“Show me your hands!”_

Chip was hurt. Chip was bleeding. He had to help Chip.

Adam reached out to him.

Chip recoiled sharply. He burst into sobs and tripping over his own feet, he ran from the room.

Adam made to follow. Mrs. Potts stopped him.

“I’ll take care of him, sir,” she said shortly.

“He’s hurt!” Adam protested. “His hand was bleeding-”

“You’ve done enough,” Mrs. Potts snapped. Adam froze. She hadn’t spoken to him like that since he was Chip’s age. The older woman turned before Adam could react and ran after her son, calling his name.

Adam stumbled back into the room, stunned. “I was only trying to help,” he heard himself say. He felt so small now. He dropped to the ground and began gathering up the shards in his handkerchief. He kept dropping them over and over again.

Plumette was kneeling in front of him. He hadn’t heard her enter the room. “I will take care of that sir,” she said gently. Adam shook his head.

“I was only trying to help,” he repeated. “Chip cut his hand. We should send for a doctor right away.”

“Cogsworth is already ordering the coachman to go find the doctor,” Plumette assured him. Adam blinked. How long had he been in here? Plumette reached out and took the the handkerchief from him. “I’ll take care of it, sir. If I recall, I don’t think you even liked this thing very much.” She was trying to lighten the mood. Adam appreciated it, truly. But it wasn’t helping.

Adam stood shakily. “I was only trying to help,” he said again. He wandered like a ghost in his own castle back to his own chambers. He felt as if he was ten years old again.

_“I was only trying to help,” he had said to his father. It was an accident. He didn’t mean to. But even one mistake was one too many in the eyes of his father._

Adam crawled into his bed and curled in on himself. In his fright at seeing a child injured and bleeding, he had succeeded in nothing but making the child terrified at him.

He had only been trying to help.

 

* * *

 

Belle’s new dress did not deviate far from her usual style but it was far nicer than anything she had ever owned before. The white floral bodice and blue skirt was a new favorite of hers. Madame de Garderobe just _preened_ every time she saw Belle wearing the dress.

“Oh, I do wish we could have a ball,” she lamented. “You’d look ravishing in this.” Her hand gestured to the open page of her sketchbook. Belle was at a loss as to why she would even be invited to this hypothetical ball in the first place. Every interaction she had had so far with the Prince had been nothing short of unpleasant. She had been expecting an increase in unpleasant interactions but to her relief (and annoyance), the Prince was keeping himself locked away in the West Wing. He had thrown a fit about her going home so often (Mrs. Potts’ words) and now he saw fit to ignore her.

The Prince didn’t like her. He detested her. Why would he ever want to include her by inviting her to a ball?

_Still_ , thought Belle. _That dress does look beautiful._ The yellow ball gown seemed to twirl itself across the pages of Madame de Garderobe’s sketchbook.

 

* * *

 

After locking himself away in the West Wing for a week, Adam finally emerged.

_It’s such a nice day,_ they said.

_The sun will feel nice,_ they said.

_If you don’t get out of this room this instant I will force cold tea down your throat for the rest of your days,_ they said.

_They_ being Lumiere, Cogsworth, and Mrs. Potts: the three constant, well-meaning, thorns in his backside.

He threw something at the wall, knocked something else over, and stalked outside of his castle, grumbling to himself all the way. Adam paced this way and that in his gardens, without a clear destination in mind.

In time the cool, crisp autumn air helped clear his head and after some time he finally sat down in the colonnade.

Adam’s castle was peaceful, secluded, grand, beautiful…lonesome.

He had not held any sort of ball or party in years. He hadn’t had a visitor for nearly as long. He hadn’t been to the village for quite some time. He was a self-made recluse. The only contact he had with the outside world was through his books and his letters. And with all the work being done in the library, the cold manner of the librarian, he felt like he was unwelcome there.

Someone found him while he was stewing in his own thoughts and presented him with some letters. He looked through them quietly for some time. The first few were matters of business that he would attend to after his midday meal. He tucked those letters away in the inside pocket of his overcoat and moved on to the last letter. Finally, something new. A letter from a friend. Well, an acquaintance. Passing acquaintance. Alright, he was a prat and Adam felt obligated to keep in some sort of contact with him just because he was some sort of distant relation.

Adam read through the letter. One passage caught his eye. He studied it several times over and frowned. No, that wasn’t right. He was on his feet before he knew it making his way back into the castle. The library, he realized. He was going to the library. He looked down at the letter in his hand again. Yes. He _needed_ to go to the library.

The library had made some progress since he had been here last, Adam was pleased to see. But no librarian in sight. Maybe he could find the book he needed himself. The books were supposed to be organized by genre. Adam went to the first table he saw and picked up a book at random. He frowned. History. No, he didn’t need history. He put the book back down and moved on to the next table.

“Did you need help finding something?” Adam’s head snapped up. Belle was on the second level of the library, a stack of books in hand, looking down at him in curiosity.

“Yes,” Adam answered. “Where have you hidden my copy of Macbeth?”

Belle set the books down on the shelf in front of her. “Not hidden, just put away.” She disappeared around a corner. A moment later she emerged on the first level. She paused thoughtfully for a moment before making her way over to the correct bookshelf. Climbing expertly up a ladder, Belle ran her fingers over the spines before picking out the correct volume.

“Can I help you find anything else?” Belle asked. Adam waved her off.

“I’ll only be a minute.” He set the book down on the table and started flipping through the pages. He knew what he was looking for was in the first act. Or was it the second? No, he was certain it was the first. Scene seven. Enter _Lady Macbeth_.

“Ah ha!” Adam cried out triumphantly.

“What is it?” Belle inquired. Adam gestured to the page.

“I had a letter today. They made a quip and attributed it to Hamlet but I was fairly certain they were wrong. The line is actually said by Lady Macbeth. ‘But screw your courage to the sticking-place/And we’ll not fail.’ Not my favorite of his plays, but it is a memorable one.”

Belle seemed pleasantly surprised. “You know Shakespeare?”

“I had an expensive education,” he answered dismissively. The doors to the library opened. Cogsworth entered, followed by several members of staff carrying two large trunks.

“Your majesty,” Cogsworth bowed. “ _Mademoiselle_. The books have just returned from Paris. Rebound and in excellent condition.” The trunks were set down on the floor. Belle immediately sank to her knees in front of one and opened it up. With the utmost care, she picked up one of the books and examined it closely. Her fingers traced the spine and then the design on the front cover. After flipping through the pages she nodded satisfactorily and placed the book back down in the trunk.

“Thank you, Cogsworth. I will look through all of them most carefully but if the first book is anything to go by, I know they’ll be in a much better condition than when they left here.”

Despite all of the rigorous training Adam had in manners and etiquette, even he had to admit that he could not sound as genuine and amiable as Belle just had. Cogsworth looked properly flustered at the compliment and swept into a bow before exiting with all the servants.

Adam handed the copy of Macbeth back to her. “I could get Cogsworth to hire some help. At this rate it’ll take you months to reshelf everything. Strange, considering it was all torn down so quickly.”

“It takes longer to build something up than to tear it down,” Belle answered. She walked back over to the bookshelf she had picked up Hamlet from and climbed the ladder. Adam followed her. “It’s actually going a lot faster than you think. And the other members of your staff help as often as they can.” Belle put the book back in its place and smiled down the ladder at him. “Besides, the sooner I get all the books put away, the sooner I can maybe read a few of them. I’ve never seen so many books in my life.”

“Your governess couldn’t satisfy your appetite for books, I take it?” Belle paused in her descent from the ladder.

“I never had a governess,” she admitted. Adam was surprised.

“No governess?” he repeated. But then he realized where her education must have come from. Though her curtsies weren’t performed very well, she was obviously an intelligent and educated woman and he could guess where she must have learned her love of books. “Your mother, then?”

A twinge of sadness came over Belle. Adam instinctively knew what she would say next, thanks to his own experiences. “I never knew my mother,” Belle explained. “My father taught me to read. He has a modest collection but he has made friends over the years that let him borrow books for me. What books couldn’t teach me, papa taught me himself.”

Adam paused, not knowing how to continue. “Right,” he said awkwardly. “I will let you continue with your work, then.” He turned to leave the library.

“Perhaps my father could come to visit sometime?” Belle called out suddenly. Adam paused. “It’s just…I’m all he has left and my being away from him for such long stretches of time-he misses me. And I miss him.”

Adam tensed, took a deep breath and turned to face her. “You were distracted enough from your work before. Your father coming here would only allow those distractions to come back. You’re better off without him. I would suggest forgetting about him. Fathers are nothing but disappointments. I’m certain yours is no different.” He missed the look of hurt and indignation on Belle’s face as he stormed from the library.

 

* * *

 

Belle did not go down for dinner. She returned to her new room in a daze and sunk into the bed. The sun had nearly dipped below the horizon and still Belle could not make herself move to light a candle.

She heard movement outside in the corridor. Belle hadn’t bothered with closing her door like she should have. Madame de Garderobe entered the room with a box in her hands. It was probably the red and pink dress she had promised to make.

A candle was lit and soothing hands ran over her head and through her hair. Madame de Garderobe had somehow managed to fit herself and all of her skirts on to the bed next to Belle.

“The master really is not that bad once you get to know him,” Madame de Garderobe was saying. “Why not give him a chance?”

Belle shook her head. “I don’t want to get to know him,” she said thickly. “I don’t want to have anything to do with him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rule of little kids is this: if they're hurt, don't freak out. Because the kid will freak out. Adam, who actually has a soft spot for Chip, doesn't know this.
> 
> This will be explored later, but Adam is completely unfazed at the idea of Belle (a woman) being a librarian. Proving that even though he's an ass, he's centuries ahead of certain other men.


	5. Wolves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a dinner invitation is rejected and wolves attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *rises from the depths* It's been eighty-four years...
> 
> But seriously, I had a career change, a move, stressful times, and didn't have the time or energy to focus on a large fic such as this. Enjoy the update.

Adam’s conversation with Belle in the library got him thinking over the next couple of days. Here, finally, was someone new. Someone with whom he could hold an intelligent conversation with. Someone who could possibly entertain him and relieve his boredom.

Adam was struck with an idea as he went to bed one evening and when he rose in the morning, he was resolved to put his plan into action.

“Tell the kitchen to set two places in the dining room this evening,” Adam said to Cogsworth in their morning meeting. Cogsworth looked surprised. Mrs. Potts was so surprised that she nearly dropped the tea cup she was setting down in front of him.

“I was not aware we were expecting any visitors,” Cogsworth muttered as he frantically checked his notes.

“We’re not,” Adam drolled. He stirred his tea around a few times, choosing his words carefully. “I’m bored and I want company and lively conversation at dinner for once.” Mrs. Potts set down a plate of steaming scones in front of him. “Tell the librarian to join me for dinner this evening.”

For a long while, nobody said anything. Cogsworth and Mrs. Potts stared at him, open-mouthed.

“Did you not hear me?” demanded Adam in a sharp, commanding voice. Mrs. Potts and Cogsworth apologized profusely.

“Of course, sir. Sorry, sir,” said Cogsworth. “I will give a note to _Mademoiselle Belle_ that you request the honor of her presence at dinner this evening-”

Adam scoffed. “It’s not a request. I want her to join me for dinner and she will do it because she is a member of my staff and she must do what I say.”

Mrs. Potts cleared her throat. “With all due respect, ladies normally don’t respond well to demands. You should be kind, sweet, and gentle.”

“You should say ‘please’” Cogsworth added under his breath.

“Just see that it is done,” Adam snapped. “Now, what dreary matter of business do I have to take care of today?”

Adam went through his business of the day: reading letters, replying to letters, planning for his hunt in the woods, speaking to various members of his staff. But most noticed that his mood was far better than normal and it did not take long for whispers among the staff to reveal the reason behind such high spirits.

And why shouldn’t he be? For once, he didn’t feel bored. That’s what his life had been up until now: boring. Belle was a mystery, a puzzle, intriguing, exciting. He would solve the puzzle that was Belle.

Adam looked down at the clothes he was wearing and frowned distastefully. No, this would not do for dinner at all. He called for Chapeau. It was time to put on a show.

 

* * *

 

Belle read the note once. Twice. A third time. She looked up and everyone immediately turned their eyes back to their plates, pretending (poorly) that they had not been staring. Giselle didn’t bother to pretend. She arched an eyebrow at Belle, silently judging. Pursing her lips, Belle refolded the note and tucked it away into one of her apron pockets.

“You have lovely penmanship, Lumiere,” Belle commented. The aforementioned man choked on his tea. “When am I expected to formulate my own reply?”

“The sooner the better,” Cogsworth answered. “I trust you have something suitable to wear?”

Belle swirled her soup around in her bowl. “I think I can manage.”

 

* * *

 

Adam had just slipped on one of his nicer overcoats for dinner when there was a knock on his door. “Enter!” he called. Cogsworth nervously bustled in, followed closely by Lumiere. “This better be important,” he warned. This was the first time he had actually been looking forward to dinner for quite some time and he wasn’t about to be late because of some trifle matter or another.

“A message for you, _your grace,_ ” Lumiere held out a sealed letter. Adam took it and Lumiere and Cogsworth immediately tried to hide behind one another. Raising an eyebrow, Adam broke the seal and read over the short letter.

 

_Your Highness,_

_I am disinclined to accept your invitation to dinner tonight._

_Sincerely,_

_Belle_

One. Sentence.

One little sentence was all she wrote. She dismissed him so briefly. So callously!

He flew out the door to his chambers before Lumiere and Cogsworth could stop him.

“Your grace!” Cogsworth wheezed. “I beg of you!”

“Master, perhaps this is not the best course of action,” Lumiere attempted to reason.

“Take me to her,” Adam ordered. Lumiere and Cogsworth reluctantly agreed. Mrs. Potts fell in line with them as they left the West Wing.

“Please don’t go losing your temper over this,” Mrs. Potts implored. “It’s only dinner.”

“It is an insult, Mrs. Potts,” Adam said through grit teeth. He was led, reluctantly he noticed, by the three to a set of doors in the East Wing. So this is where Cogsworth had decided to put her.

Adam pounded his fist against the door.

“I thought I told you to join me for dinner!” he thundered.

“I’m not hungry!” Belle replied coolly.

The _insolence!_ If she didn’t come out, then he would have the door _broken down!_

Mrs. Potts put a hand on his shoulder. “There’s no reason to be a beast about it,” she hissed to him. “If you want her to come to dinner that badly, you need to be a gentleman; ask her politely and if she says no, then you accept it with dignity and grace.”

Adam glared at Mrs. Potts and sighed.

“Will you come down to dinner?” he tried, sounding very amiable and calm in his own opinion. (Childish and insincere in Mrs. Potts’.)

“No.” Belle’s answer was swift. Adam turned to his servants and pointed furiously at the door as if to say _You see? You see where being polite got me? I asked nicely and still she refuses me! What does she want me to do? Beg? Not I! Not your prince!_

“Perhaps if you tried saying please?” Cogsworth suggested.

Adam turned to the door and tried again. “It would give me great pleasure if you’d join me for dinner. Please,” he added.

For a moment there was silence on the other side of the door. Adam got his hopes up, briefly, that she might come out and join him.

“You’ve already limited my contact with the outside world enough that this job feels more like a prison sentence. I’m not to go home but once a month and my father isn’t allowed to come and see me by your command. And now you expect me to be happy to dine with you? Have you gone completely mad?”

If Adam hadn’t lost his temper before, it was well and truly lost now. _“I TOLD YOU TO JOIN ME FOR DINNER!”_ he thundered.

_“AND I TOLD YOU ‘NO’!”_ Belle roared right back. Adam pounded his fists on her door one more time and stormed off down the hall to his own private chambers.

 

* * *

 

Adam rose early the next morning. He had been planning this hunting party for some time now. It was to be an all day excursion, gone by sunrise, back before nightfall. Still, he had business to attend to. Chapeau came into Adam’s study not long after he was rung for. The prince was sealing his letter and did not look up immediately when his valet entered.

“Chapeau,” he finally acknowledged. “You escort Belle home, do you not? Be sure to give this letter to her _after_ you have driven through the gates. Not a moment sooner. Is that understood?” Chapeau, a mute, bowed and tucked the letter away in an interior pocket.

 

* * *

 

Adam’s heart was not in the hunt. Even before today, he did not pretend to love the thrill of the chase or the kill. Today in particular his thoughts were stormy. He and his men were no more than half a mile from the castle: chilled, tired, and famished. That was when they heard the wolves howl. They drew their horses to a halt. Each steed pawed the ground nervously as the men strained their ears and listened. The howls were still far away, but wolves could move fast.

He prepared to give the command to make their way back to the castle, quickly. But before the command could fall, there came another sound from the direction of the wolves: three short and loud horn blasts. They were from the very same horn that Chapeau carried with him to warn when he was in danger, in need of aid.

Belle was with Chapeau.

Adam’s horse was off before anybody else could react. He used through all the shortcuts he learned as a boy, not caring as branches and twigs tore through his hair and scratched his face. His heart pounded with adrenaline and fear. But not fear of the wolves, he would realize later.

Adam’s horse leapt into a clearing and only had a moment to process all the chaos that was happening there. At least half a dozen wolves were in the pack. The buggy was overturned, Chapeau trapped underneath, but looking relatively unharmed. Adam _knew_ the man had a sword at his side, but he must be unable to reach it in his current predicament. The horse was frightened and cornered by two wolves.

And Belle: Belle looked all at once beautiful, fearsome, terrifying and terrified. She stood in front of Chapeau, swinging at the wolves with a broken branch. One climbed up over the side of the overturned buggy and prepared to pounce on Belle.

Adam rushed at the beast and cut it down with his sword in one fluid motion. The wolf didn’t even have time to cry out. Adam leapt off his horse and put himself in between Belle and the wolves. He only had to hold them off until the rest of the men got here.

A sword in one hand, a pistol in the other, a crossbow and quiver slung around him, Adam was more than prepared to face the pack. He tossed the crossbow aside for now, to have the weight off of his back. It was close enough that should he need it, he could get to it.

“Cover your ears,” Adam warned Belle before he fired on another wolf. It shrieked and dropped dead where it stood. Adam’s ears rung from the shot but he couldn’t lose focus. Four wolves were left and he knew he didn’t have the firepower left in his gun for all of them. And if he missed one, their chances grew slim.

Adam felt something on his back but ignored it to focus on the animals. The wolves that had cornered the buggy’s horse abandoned that prey to be reinforcements for their brethren. Two wolves snarled and edged closer. Adam took aim and fired. His shot went wide on one side. Cursing to himself, Adam swiped at the other wolf with his sword and managed to injure it, but it was not dead.

He had not been paying enough attention to the first wolf he shot at.

A white hot, blinding pain shot through him as the wolf swiped at his arm. Adam dropped his weapons in surprise and the wolf was on him in an instant. Adam couldn’t see the pistol and the hand he would need to reach his sword was occupied trying to fight back the wolf. Both his hands were. The wolf managed one bite before it yelped and dropped dead. Adam shoved the wolf away from him and reached for the dagger at his belt. The other wolf leapt on him, scratching and biting through his clothes. Adam managed to take his dagger and drive it up into the wolf’s heart.

Panting, he shoved the dying beast off of him and staggered to his feet. The remaining two beasts, realizing that their numbers had been depleted, ran back into the darkness of the woods, admitting defeat for this day. Adam dropped his weapons to the ground. He felt uncomfortable and sticky.

Adam looked at one of the wolves and frowned. He had only shot his bow once. Finally, he turned to look at Belle. She was pale, panting, and scared. But she was unharmed. And she was wielding his crossbow. He had only shot his crossbow once, but there were two wolves with arrows sticking out of them.

“Did you…?” he trailed off, indicating the wolf. Belle nodded. Adam’s vision began to swim and darken. Distantly, he heard hoofbeats and shouts.

“Thank you,” he managed to say before he passed into unconsciousness.

If Adam had been hoping for his unconsciousness to bring him relief, he was mistaken. He felt something drape over him and a hand pushing his hair back from his face.

Blearily, Adam’s eyes opened. Belle was crouched very near him. He could count every freckle across her nose and cheeks and every eyelash if he so wished. “You have to help me,” Belle whispered. “You have to stand.”

For once in his life, Adam did as he was told. He stood. Leaning on Belle for support, she led him to his horse and helped him climb back on to him. He was only dimly aware of the journey back to the castle, Belle calling out for assistance, someone peeling off his shirt that was sticky with blood.

He came hurtling back into lucidity when something stinging was pressed to his arm. Adam yelped in pain and sat up. He was back in his chambers, laying in his bed. Belle was sitting by his bedside with a warm washcloth. He glared at the cloth and the contents of the bowl. Probably just hot water, the more reasonable side of himself said, but still.

“That hurt!” Adam protested.

Belle narrowed her eyes. “If you’d hold still it wouldn’t hurt as much.”

This is what Adam had been told for years every time he had gotten hurt and logically, he knew they were right. But he had a low threshold for pain and wasn’t at all interested in thinking logically at present.

“Well if you hadn’t been in the woods at dusk, this wouldn’t have happened.” _There_. That would show her.

“If you had had the decency to dismiss me from your employment earlier in the day, I wouldn’t have been in the woods at _dusk._ ” Oh. Yes. She had a point, didn’t she?

“Well…you should have come to dinner,” Adam muttered.

Belle wasn’t amused. “And you should learn to control your temper.” She stood and left the room.

 

* * *

 

Someone pressed very deliberately on one of his wounds. Adam gave a roar of pain.

“Oh, good,” said the cheery voice of Mrs. Potts. “You’re awake.”

“I don’t want tea, Mrs. Potts,” Adam mumbled. “Are you trying to finish what the wolves started?”

“I’m not here for tea,” Mrs. Potts snapped. “I’m here because I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen.”

Adam looked at Mrs. Potts in bewilderment. He hadn’t heard her speak to him like that since he was a little boy. It made him feel very small indeed.

“You’re an arse,” Mrs. Potts said plainly. “And if you weren’t such an arse, you wouldn’t be in this position. Belle is a very lovely girl but she’s right. You’ve made her a prisoner, not an employee. You’ve done nothing but be condescending and _rude_ to her ever since you laid eyes on her and that needs to stop. The girl’s father lost her mother when she was just a baby and keeping them away from each other is just cruel. If you hadn’t been so rude and demanding with Belle she might have joined you for dinner. And even if she hadn’t, throwing a fit about the whole affair did absolutely nothing to help your sorry situation. Belle still wants to leave this place. If you don’t want Belle to leave, and I highly suspect you don’t, you’re going to make things right with her. Because if you don’t, I swear to you that you’ll be drinking cold tea for the rest of your days.”

Mrs. Potts breathed hard in and out before slapping a cold, damp cloth to Adam’s forehead. “Get some sleep, dear.”

 

* * *

 

Two days later, Adam was finally motivated to get out of bed. He was not ready to get out of bed by any means. He was still sleeping most of the day and had salves reapplied to his wounds twice daily. Cogsworth always came in to give him news and letters. Adam was tuning most of it out until Belle’s name came up.

“…and a carriage has been arranged to bring _Mademoiselle Belle_ back home so as to avoid another incident like the one a few days ago. She requests to be sent word when you are fully recovered and would like to thank you for the opportunity to work among so many books.”

Adam was staggering out of his bedroom before Cogsworth could stop him. Dizzy and out of breath, he knocked on Belle’s bedroom door in the East Wing. Much more gently this time. Mrs. Potts would be proud.

There was some shuffling from the other side of the door but Belle opened it momentarily. She looked shocked to see him there. He supposed he didn’t look his best, but he didn’t care. Adam staggered past her into the room and collapsed onto an armchair.

“Your highness?” Belle asked. So civil and so polite and with so much more ease than he could muster.

“Don’t go,” Adam said. Belle’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Don’t go,” Adam repeated. “There are not enough words to express how deeply sorry I am, but I will try. I am sorry for any insult I have made toward you or your work on my library. I know it’s a large job but it is important to me that it is done right and I believe you are the only one that can do it. I have been a tyrant, I know. People are not my forte but for you I will endeavor to improve. Your father can come and visit the castle as much he likes and you can go home just as often. If you want to leave some day in February and not come back until June, I will not argue. You can take your meals with whomever you like. Don’t go. Please.”

Belle laced her fingers together. Her eyes darted to the trunk at the foot of her bed. Already packed and ready to go. He was too late. His apologies were too little.

“You’ve already packed,” Adam noticed.

Belle shrugged. “I can unpack just as easily,” she reasoned. “It would be a shame to leave the library half done. Well, not _half_ done.” Belle squared her shoulders. “I get to visit home twice a month.”

“With an escort and a carriage,” Adam insisted. “For my own peace of mind,” he added hastily when it looked like she might protest. “And please delay coming and going if the weather looks too frightful. Any other demands?”

“A raise in my wages,” Belle said swiftly. She looked uncertain, worrying that she had overstepped.

Adam nodded. “I’ll speak to Cogsworth about it.” He also made a note to himself to have a new cloak made for Belle for the winter. The one in her possession looked entirely too threadbare. “So, _Mademoiselle Belle_ , you agree to be my librarian?”

“Yes. I do. Your highness,” Belle curtsied at him.

“Please. You shot at a wolf with a crossbow. You’ve earned the right to call me Adam.” His vision began to darken and he slipped into unconsciousness once more.

 

* * *

 

He awoke again later in his own bed. Nearby he heard the crinkling of pages and a soft voice began to read aloud.

_“Those Lips that Love’s own hand did make. Breathed forth the sound that said ‘I hate.’ To me that languished for her sake; But when she saw my woeful state, straight in her heart did mercy come…‘I hate’ from hate away she threw, and saved my life, saying “not you.”_

Adam smiled and let Belle’s voice lull him back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Belle's reading Shakespeare's Sonnet 145


	6. Koschei the Deathless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Giselle makes an accusation, a certain townsperson declares it's Hero Time, and Belle reads more to Adam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little shorter than previous chapter, but a certain character finally makes his debut.

Belle was thoroughly convinced that Giselle was one of those rare people who woke up every day and swore that she would do everything in her power to make herself miserable. From the very first time Belle had laid eyes on her, there had been a frown twisting the maid’s face. This paired with the stringy yellow hair and bulbous nose made Giselle into no great beauty. Still, her looks would not matter if she was good at heart. But alas, her inner beauty was no more than sour milk.

“Dining with the prince tonight, are we?” Giselle had sneered at Belle. Belle ignored her in favor of continuing on toward the library. “He’ll wine you, bed you, and cast you off once he’s bored with you. Just you wait!” Giselle called after her.

But Belle had no intentions of dining with Prince Adam as she made perfectly clear in her reply. Yes, her letter had been curt, but at least _she_ had the decency to actually write the note herself.

The whole castle must have heard the yelling.

“Who do you think you are refusing the master?” Giselle demanded of her over breakfast the next day. “What makes you think _you’re_ too good for him?”

 _Damned if I do, damned if I don’t,_ Belle thought to herself as Mrs. Potts admonished Giselle.

Belle had known what the letter contained before Chapeau had handed it to her. Cogsworth, Lumiere, and Mrs. Potts all avoided her throughout the day and Chapeau could not bring himself to meet her gaze as she exited the castle to the horse and buggy. That and the fact that the letter’s seal had obviously been broken and then resealed. She looked back at the castle one more time as they pulled away. Never would she see it again.

She ripped open the letter, not surprised by the content.

_Due to your conduct and insubordination..._

_...effective immediately…_

_...your belongings will be sent along within a week…_

_...wages will be brought to you..._

_Prince Adam, et cetera and so forth_

Belle tucked the letter in the pocket of her dress. Well good riddance to him. No library was worth putting up with that beast of a prince.

Then the wolves came.

Then the prince came to her rescue.

And she came to his rescue.

“I thought he got rid of you.” Giselle was seething at Belle’s return. “And now he’s dying of wolf bites all thanks to _you_.”

“He’s not dying you fool!” Belle snapped. She was busy trying to get blood off of her hands. The last thing she wanted was to hear more of Giselle’s snide comments. “And it’s not like I _asked_ the wolves to attack me. Don’t you ever use your brain or is your head that empty?”

Giselle was silent for one brief moment. “Maybe you did,” she said slowly. “You’ve been locked up in that library most days. You probably found some witch’s book.”

“Witches aren’t _real_.” Belle rolled her eyes. “Besides, I don’t work here anymore. I’m here to settle my affairs, pack my things, and then you’ll never see me again.”

But Belle’s plans changed again when a pale, sweat-drenched Prince Adam stumbled into her room and begged her not to leave. He did seem genuinely remorseful and it didn’t take long for Belle to change her mind and decide to stay (after some negotiations of course).

If she had known what a big baby Prince Adam would turn out to be, she might not have made the same decision.

“You can’t keep scratching at your bandages,” Belle admonished him. She pulled his hands away from his bandages again.Prince  Adam’s bottom lip jutted out and his eyebrows furrowed. If his eyes were open, Belle could almost imagine he’d be giving her big, puppy dog eyes.

“But they _itch_ ,” he complained.

When it was finally determined he was not in danger of succumbing to his injuries, Belle leapt at the chance to go back home to her father for a few days. Maurice was leaning against the garden gate when Belle arrived. She blushed furiously as her father raised an eyebrow.

“Riding in style now, I see,” he commented. The carriage and guard continued on to the Potts residence, villagers gaping openly.

“Temporary precaution,” Belle assured him, trying to wave off the carriage like it was nothing. “A few wolves were spotted in the woods.” She didn’t think it necessary to tell her father that _she_ was the one the wolves had attacked. At least not right away. Her father opened the gate for her and put an arm around her shoulder, leading her toward the house.

“I heard our prince was quite the hero,” Maurice said, a question in his voice. He wanted Belle’s opinion on the matter.

“That may be, but now it’s time for the _real_ hero to step up,” said a loud, boisterous voice from behind them. Belle tried best to school her face into a neutral expression before she and her father turned around to address their unexpected visitor.

Captain Gaston leaned against their garden gate, a smirk on his face. His constant companion Le Fou stood twenty paces away, holding on to the horses’ reins.

“Don’t you worry, Belle,” assured Gaston. “Me and my men will be going out into the forest and we will not rest until we’ve hunted down every last one of the wolves. Your daughter will be safe, so long as I’m around, Maurice.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Belle said icily. “The prince already fended off several wolves singlehandedly.” A lie. She had shot one of them. She imagined the look on Gaston’s face if he ever figured out that she shot at a wolf.

“Aye,” Gaston agreed, nodding solemnly. “It was a very brave and very foolish thing for him to do. Now he lies dying in his tower. It’s a good thing there’s men like me around to help protect this town.”

“He’s not dying,” Belle corrected them. Gaston looked surprised. “He is recovering well. At least, so I’ve been told,” Belle amended.

Gaston smiled. “I’m happy to hear it. But I really must be going now.” He straightened up, puffed out his chest and declared “It’s _hero time_.” He gave a nod to Belle and her father and returned to his horses and Le Fou.

“That man is so full of himself,” Belle said when Gaston was well out of earshot.

“That may be,” Maurice agreed, nodding his head. He turned again, walking with Belle through their front door. “But he does do a lot for this town. Going out after those wolves is a brave thing to do.”

Belle rolled her eyes. “Gaston doesn’t do those things for the town,” she said. “He does it for himself: to make himself look heroic.” She went to the cupboard and began getting things out for tea.

“I heard a rumor that the prince saved someone,” Maurice commented. Belle froze and looked over her shoulder, but her father was not looking at her. He was absorbed in his work again. “That sounds just like the princes in the stories I used to read you.”

“He did save someone,” Belle confirmed. “But I think they helped save him, too.”

* * *

 

According to Lumiere, the story of how Prince Adam valiantly defended an unnamed maiden from a pack of wolves had spread quickly, making him a very popular figure indeed.

“No mention of how she shot a wolf down with my crossbow and managed to get me back to the castle mostly unaided?” Truly, if anybody was the hero, it was Belle.

“No,” Lumiere said. “But the many admirers who are writing to the castle and wishing you a speedy recovery from your wolf bites. Also, offers to provide wolfsbane, should you turn into a werewolf at the next full moon.”

Adam scoffed. “They hardly bit me at all. They just wanted to claw me to death instead. Truth be told, I might as well have been attacked by a bunch of cats.” It was easier to be nonchalant about the whole affair now that he was in less danger of dying. He looked to the empty chair at his bedside and sighed. Belle had been something of a nursemaid since the attack. But he had not seen in her in the past few days. He had not spoken with her since the day before she left to see her father. Belle had just finished reading a passage out of a book to him and Adam was well on his way to sleep.

“By the way…” Belle began cautiously “Why did you invite me to have dinner with you?”

Adam shrugged. “I don’t know,” he sighed. “I was bored. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Now that he was sleeping less during the day and the fog in his brain was beginning to clear, he was starting to clue in on why Belle might have stormed out of his chambers and not returned since. He knew she had returned to the castle just yesterday, but she had yet to come and see him. Now that he had regained his strength, it might be time for _him_ to go and see _her._

Madame de Garderobe entered his room in a dramatic fashion (so, really, a normal day for her). The doors burst open and the Madame took time to strike a pose in the doorway, showing off all of her skirts, ruffles, and bows. Tucked under one arm was her dog and under the other was a box.

“Sire!” she exclaimed breathlessly. “I have finished it! And it. Is. _Marvelous!_ ” she sang the last few syllables and presented the box to Adam. He lifted the lid and examined the contents. He nodded, satisfied.

“Thank you, _Madame_ ,” Adam said sincerely. Both staff members stared at him. He really was out of practice with his manners.

“Shall I have it delivered to her, sir?” Lumiere suggested. Adam pushed away his covers and grabbed his boots laying nearby. Lumiere and Garderobe both tried to protest his getting out of bed. Adam waved them both off, insisting he was fine. He paused only to grab his cloak before heading to the library.

Belle was much easier to find this time. Instead of being hidden among the books, she was seated at a table in the very first room of the library. In one hand was a cup of tea, in the other a book. A plate of food that had been mostly picked clean was nearby. He had caught her during a lunch break. Belle gave him a small smile when he entered and then frowned.

“You should be resting,” Belle insisted. Adam shook his head.

“I have been resting for far too long,” he said. He placed the box down on the table in front of her and began to fasten his cloak. “A walk on the grounds and some fresh air will do me good. But since I am still considered an invalid by many on my staff, perhaps you could join me.” Adam finally realized that his state of dress was far more understated than was usual for him. He wore a plain white linen shirt tucked into plain black breeches and plain black boots. He hadn’t even bothered to tie his hair back with any sort of ribbon and he hadn’t shaved for over a week. Truly, he must look like quite a sight, but he was still recovering so it could be forgiven, he supposed.

Belle considered this a moment. “Alright,” she agreed cautiously. She began to stand. Adam gestured toward the box.

“You should probably open that first.” Belle raised an eyebrow at him but complied with the request. She gasped at the contents. He had requested a new cloak be made for Belle for the upcoming winter months. Adam himself had been pleased with the red cloak’s final design and it seemed Belle was, too.

“Your other cloak was much too thin and has too much of my blood on it,” Adam explained. “I, uh, hope you like this one just as well. Compliments of Madame de Garderobe”

“It is beautiful,” Belle said breathlessly. “Thank you!”

Adam bowed his head to her. “You’re welcome. No, bring your book,” Adam hastened to say when Belle made to leave her book behind. “I am not entirely myself again. I may need the distraction.”

Belle complied and fell in line beside him as they exited the castle. They paused so that Belle could fasten the cloak about her. It did look very nice on her. He wondered if he should ask to have a few new dresses made for Belle as well. He had not worried too much about clothing for his staff before, but he hadn’t stood between his staff and a pack of wolves before now.

Adam was forced to admit to himself, shortly into their walk, that he was perhaps overexerting himself. His steps became small and slow, his breaths shallow. Belle paused and sat down on one of the stone benches in the garden.

“Stone in my shoe,” Belle explained. But as Belle made no move to remove her shoe and instead just fiddled with the lacings, Adam realized that she had noticed his struggling and to save his pride, she made the excuse about her shoe. It was unnecessary but he was grateful all the same. He sat down beside her, taking care to keep an appropriate distance between them.

When Belle had gotten rid of the nonexistent stone in her shoe, Adam asked her to continue the story. She had found a book on some old Slavic folklore. He had read maybe one or two of the stories in his youth, but not much more than that. The tale Belle had chosen to read revolved around Koschei the Deathless.

Koschei was, in the literary world, known as a Very Bad Man. An evil sorcerer, to be exact. His hobbies included living in dark, foreboding castles, riding around on his horse without a stitch of clothing, living forever, and kidnapping young maidens.

In this story he had kidnapped a young maiden, a princess, but the princess was married to another and she secretly conspired with her husband and his knight to find out where Koschei had hidden his soul so that the Deathless one would be Deathless no more.

They found his soul, hidden inside of an egg and returned to Koschei’s castle. As the knight was locked in battle against Koschei, the prince handed the egg to the princess. She came up behind Koschei and smashed the egg on his back. The prince, his bride, and the knight all rode away, leaving behind Koschei’s abandoned, crumbling castle. The evil wizard inside crumbled into dust and was no more.

“And that’s what romance gets you,” Adam remarked. Belle looked at him incredulously.

“Excuse me? That was far from a romance!”

Adam shrugged. “Alright, it was a one-sided romance what with the kidnapping and the killing and the evil wizardry-”

“No, no. It wasn’t a romance at all. If the princess had gone to his castle of his own free will, I might agree with you. But he was never going to let her go.”

“Oh, alright. It wasn’t a romance. Still, can’t help feeling a little bad for the fellow. Loneliness is a terrible thing.” Belle nodded in agreement. “Truth is: I never much cared for romances.”

“Well, maybe you just haven’t found the right one yet. _Romeo and Juliet_ has always been my favorite.”

Adam rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Why does that not surprise me?”

Belle blinked at him. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s just...all that heartache and pining is just…pleh!” Adam shuddered at the thought of it. Belle gave an incredulous laugh. “There are so many better things to read.”

“Like what, your highness?” Belle challenged.

“ _Hamlet,_ for one,” Adam answered. “ _The Tempest, The Iliad,_ and I thought I told you to call me Adam?”

Adam thought he saw Belle blush. “I thought you were delirious from pain.”

“I was,” he agreed. “That doesn’t mean I didn’t mean it.” They stared at each other for a moment before quickly looking away.

“Thank you for the cloak,” Belle said. “I did need something warmer. And…I never did thank you for saving my life.”

“I never thanked you for not leaving me to be eaten by wolves,” Adam replied.

Belle laughed in surprise. “Was-was that a _joke?_ ” she asked incredulously. She smiled teasingly at him. “Are you making jokes now?”

Adam shrugged nonchalantly. “Maybe,” he allowed. Belle laughed again, shaking her head. She had a nice laugh, he noticed. Adam blew warm air on to his hands and rubbed them together. Seeing this, Belle stood up and held her hand out to him.

“What do you say we go warm ourselves up by the fire?” she suggested. “And have Mrs. Potts bring us some tea?”

Adam liked that idea very much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adam's line about how asking Belle to dinner "seemed like a good idea at the time" was a reference to the 1999 Mummy because I love that movie. Koschei the Deathless is kind of like Beauty and the Beast, except Koschei is a Dark Evil Wizard and he doesn't give the beautiful maidens a choice about living with him and just kind of decides for them. So basically if Gaston had gotten turned into a monster instead. The Myths and Legends podcast has several stories about him and I'd suggest giving them a listen along with the Beauty and the Beast episode.


End file.
